


when it's right, it's right.

by aceface



Category: Disney RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-18
Updated: 2010-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceface/pseuds/aceface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strangely, David seems to have morals when it comes to Selena. She decides, of course, to up her game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when it's right, it's right.

Twenty and seventeen isn’t that big of a difference. It’s only three years. It just sounds like a difference; because twenty sounds like an adult but seventeen is still a teenager but when it comes down to it, it’s just sounds and words and years and it has no measure on the way he looks at her when he doesn’t think she can see him or the fact that sometimes she has to sit on her hands to stop herself from holding his hand.

(The people in make up hate it when she does that, when she gets red bumps across her hands in the exact shape and texture of her jeans, but she figures they’d hate it more if her lipstick was smudged.)

And sure, her justification sounds like the same thing that those creepy old men say to her – “Pervs,” David grumbles under his breath, catching her hand in his and swiping his thumb across her fingers – but it’s different. Because they’re – they don’t know her, and it’s not the same. It’s nothing to do with her breath catching in her throat when she looks at him or when she feels like she’s going crazy and should just move on.

(Nick wasn’t the same. His hair was too curly and his face too serious. He never cracked jokes like David did, and he was always respectful of her personal space, never leaning his head on her shoulder or saying dumb stuff specifically to annoy her and saying she looked cute when she was riled up.)

This is the thing: David doesn’t exactly have morals. She knows what he gets up to, he usually _tells_ her, about cigars and gambling, and she’s seen photos of him with women. It’s not – she’s not, like, heartbroken or anything, it’s not like she doesn’t have a good time (although minus the, uh, nicotine and alcohol). 

It’s just a little annoying that he suddenly chooses to develop morals when it comes to _her_. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t have made a move on her, after all; he even (jokingly – she thinks) hits on Maria sometimes. She’s pretty, or at least she’s not _un_attractive, and just – she doesn’t understand why _not_.

The logical thing, by Selena’s logic at least, is to up her game. She’s not – she’s never been, like, a flirt or anything, she doesn’t even really know how, but she’s an actress and so she figures she can give it a go at least. She’s never been one to back down from a challenge, that’s for sure. So next time she’s sat next to David on a couch, it’s not hard to lean into him that little bit more. It’s what she always _wants_ to do, anyway, it’s just that usually she’s got more than enough self-control to stop herself. But now she’s leaning into him, and it’s – nice. She’s always liked the warm reassuring feel of him, solid and comforting, and he slides his arm around her without even thinking about it.

If she can still feel his arm there, later, well. That’s why she’s doing all this.

It’s not like she ups her game _that_ much – Selena is subtle, even if she doesn’t want to be. It’s mostly just touches; brushing against him to get something or holding his hand like she doesn’t know what she’s doing. David glances at her a few times, eyebrows raised questioningly, but she just looks away and makes like she never saved his _loves @selenagomez_ tweet to her phone.

“I’m eighteen soon,” she says one day, in case that’s what he’s waiting for, but he just blinks and says, “Oh, really? Because after three years of knowing you, I still wasn’t sure when your birthday was.”

Selena laughs and pushes him away like she’s supposed to, and hides the disappointment just like she hides everything else lately.

It’s not eating away at her. Selena is too sensible to let things like that bother her. And if he doesn’t feel the same way, it’s not the end of the world. It’s just the not knowing that’s difficult; being so close to him every day and she can usually read him so well, so why can’t she do it now? (She doesn’t let herself think that maybe it’s because there’s nothing there to read.)

Anyway, the long and short of it is that eventually it stops being about her _game_ (like Selena has game anyway) and just starts being... kind of normal. She doesn’t think twice about it when a lone kick under the table turns into ten minutes of what could almost be called playing footsie, or the way that he rests his head on her shoulder and it’s second nature for her to reach up and stroke his hair.

-

To be honest, Selena’s eighteenth birthday party isn’t really anything that she thought it’d be. It’s – awesome, really, and everyone keeps glancing over at her to check that she’s happy and she _is_, she’s smiling and everything. It’s just that David’s been hanging out with Joe Jonas for most of the night and Nick’s there, because of course she can’t have a birthday party without Disney inviting _everyone ever_, even though Demi _isn’t_ there – some excuse about being on tour, and it’s a little sad that it’s the most she’s heard from her in months. Maybe even in a _year_.

She keeps resisting the urge to hide in some room somewhere, just because – well, a little bit of quiet would be nice, maybe – but there’s always _people_ around. After another hour, though, Selena decides that maybe looking a little weird is better than snapping at the next person to say, “Hey, are you having a good time!?” in that overexcited tone of voice, so she makes an excuse and ducks out to sit on a bench in the cloakroom under someone’s coat.

It’s not long before the door opens again, and Selena shifts to hide further under the coats. She’s pretty sure that her dress is creased, but she’s not really a dress person anyway and it’s not like she’ll ever wear it again.

“Hey,” says a familiar voice and it’s David (of course) and she doesn’t know if she feels better or worse. He lifts her feet from the bench to sit down, letting her rest them in his lap again once he’s settled, and it’s comforting in a way it shouldn’t be. “You’re hiding out here because...?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she admits, leaning forward to bury her face in his shoulder. “It’s just all too much sometimes, you know?”

(She doesn’t point out that Demi isn’t here and she doesn’t have to. David was there when she was constantly refreshing her Twitter updates, checking her messages, voicemails, missed calls, listening to the dial tone as she tried to contact Demi, wondering what she did wrong. It wasn’t all Demi’s fault, but it wasn’t like Selena didn’t _try_.)

But instead of reaching up to stroke her hair with one hand and probably text someone with his other hand, like usual, David turns to face her and curls his fingers under her chin, lifting her face til she meets his eyes.

“Did you know,” he says solemnly, “that you’re eighteen in thirty seconds?”

“Uh, I’m eighteen _now_,” she says with a laugh, confused. “That’s why it’s a party.” He doesn’t laugh, though, just shakes his head and his other hand is carding through her hair and – this just got so surreal that Selena barely dares to breathe, for fear of waking up or ruining it. Whatever it is. 

“I got the actual time of your birth from your mom,” he says instead. “You’re eighteen in... well, twenty seconds, now.”

And for some reason, she doesn’t say _you’re a dork, you know that?_ or call him creepy. Instead, she just stays silent as he glances down at his watch, and they both count the movements of the second hand.

“Eighteen,” he says softly, as it hits the 12, and leans in and kisses her so carefully that she thinks she’s imagined it (because this is _David_, who parties in Puerto Rico and is the least careful person she knows. “Happy birthday.”

(It doesn’t end there, of course. She says things like “Where did that come from?” and “I was totally subtle, okay,” and he says things like, “You really thought I wouldn’t notice?” and “You’ve been driving me a little bit crazy,” and there’s dates that involve sneaking around and hand-holding where no one can notice and the people in make up always get angry when her lipstick’s smudged.)

_Happy birthday to me_, Selena thinks. And it is.


End file.
